


we are good people, and we've suffered enough

by huxism



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Armitage Hux Redemption, Enemies to Lovers, Exile, Fix It, Kylo Ren Redemption, M/M, Post TROS
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-09
Updated: 2020-01-17
Packaged: 2021-02-27 08:13:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,914
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22183882
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/huxism/pseuds/huxism
Summary: (major TROS spoilers!)Hux survived and so did Ben. They thought each other to be dead, so it gets interesting when they meet again in exile.
Relationships: Armitage Hux/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren, Armitage Hux/Kylo Ren
Comments: 6
Kudos: 92





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I think we can all agree that TROS was quite unsatisfying in terms of our Kylux dreams and wishes, so I'm writing this little fix it fic. You're welcome.  
> (Also, I haven't written in...quite a while, so I apologize for possibly odd passages.)

The last thing he remembered was a blaster being fired directly at him. Then there was nothing. Just silence and darkness. Whatever bizarre expectations people from all over the galaxy had told him about what would happen after death – none of these were true. There was only a huge nothing. At least that was what he’s been experiencing for the past few days. Maybe even weeks. Could have also just been a mere few hours, he’d lost every sense of time. However long it has been, eventually he opened his eyes again, to a too bright room, with too many beeping machines surrounding him, everything just feeling so heavy and hurting. He had no idea where he was, how he got here, what he was doing. The only thing he was relatively sure of was that he was somewhat alive and breathing, that certainly being something he hadn’t really expected after following through with his plan of betraying the First Order. He seemed to be rather sturdy after all. It made him smile a little to himself, oddly enough remembering his father’s words at that observation. He could barely keep his eyes open another minute before he’d drifted off again to that thought. 

It was probably a day later when Hux finally opened his eyes again, feeling even more miserable than the day before, since he was comparatively conscious now. Every single inch of his body just hurt and while he was used to pain to some extent, this was a tad bit too much for him. He couldn’t even think about moving, being entirely bedridden. There was an odd kind of bandage around his torso, probably right where he was shot, drenched in bacta to heal the wound. There was a similar bandage around his leg too, where the traitor had shot him. Hux truly hadn’t thought he’d meet him again like this, or at all. He looked as far around as he could, his eyes mainly taking in machines, other medical equipment, a chair in the corner. There was an emblem of the Resistance on some of the equipment, which at least told him where he’d ended up. He was surprised they were putting so much effort into keeping him alive. Maybe he’d made the right decision, after all. 

He’d just closed his eyes again when the door flew open and a man stepped into the room. Dameron, he supposed, the best pilot of the Resistance. He knew him. They exchanged an awkward glance, both of them most definitely not used to being on the same side. Although there presumably only was one side now. If he was here to look after him, the war was probably won. Palpatine was dead. The First Order was destroyed. “You’re awake.” the other observed. He almost seemed to be a little surprised to find the ex-General like this, maybe having expected him to be dead. He knew very little about his ability to survive, it seemed. There was more of an awkward silence between them, with Hux wishing Poe was simply going to leave him, but he didn’t seem to be so keen on that. 

“What happened?” he eventually decided to ask, just for the sake of things not getting even worse than they already were. Besides, he did want to know exactly how he ended up here. His voice came out a lot quieter than he’d thought, but Dameron still seemed to have understood him, starting to explain. “Word spread that you were the spy in the First Order, so there was an instruction to save you when we found you on one of the ships. That was a few weeks ago. Four, I believe. They performed surgery on you, we were all pretty surprised you didn’t die. And…now you’re still here. The First Order is gone. So is the Last Order” That was one explanation. Only a few hundred to go until everything would possibly make sense. “Thank you.” he told the other almost inaudibly, which he finally took as a clue to leave Hux alone. So, it really was the Resistance that had saved him. The First Order didn’t exist anymore. Everything he’d lived for his whole life didn’t exist anymore and he’d bonded with the enemy. That was something his tired brain didn’t want to deal with just yet. He was alive, alive and breathing, alive and safe, that was all that mattered for now. There was no enemy anymore, there was only one side he could be on. 

There were droids coming and going throughout the day, checking on him every now and then. He was still too weak to even sit up and do anything by himself, needing to have everything done by them. At least none of the other people of the Resistance showed up, he wouldn’t have been able to deal with any of them as of now and especially not with the humiliation he would’ve felt when one of them saw the precious First Order’s General like this. He might’ve helped them, but it still didn’t feel quite right to be with them. He could appreciate their efforts, but he couldn’t just forget what he’d been taught all his life. He didn’t belong here, that was for sure. 

He was provided with enough food so he would survive and a small room. That, he’d already noticed. It wasn’t the best food, not much of it either, and neither was it the best room, but it was something. It would assure his further survival. It was all that mattered to him now, he had to survive this madness, somewhat restore his health and then vanish forever. It didn’t take Hux long to make the decision that he wouldn’t stay with the Resistance. Not that he supposed they’d truly want him anyway, not after what he’d done. They all knew the orders back then came from him. 

Dameron confirmed his suspicion a few days later when he visited him again. “No one trusts you, just so you know.” were the words he used. Good. They weren’t supposed to trust him. “You’re weak, which makes the situation a little better, but I suggest as soon as you’re back to health, you should be gone.” the other man continued. Hux simply nodded. “Maybe we owe you this, for saving the Resistance. But we’re not a charity, the…other General and I have decided it’s for the best if you leave. And not let too many people know you’re here. They’re scared” Dameron wouldn’t stop so Hux tried to raise his hand in an attempt to get him to. “Understood” he managed to get out, his voice already a bit stronger than when they first attempted to make conversation. The General, just the word alone made him turn up his nose, finally left again. Their talk still made him think. He’d really saved the Resistance. He couldn’t help but wonder if that meant Kylo Ren had lost.


	2. Chapter 2

His rehabilitation process went by agonizingly slow. The wounds might have healed after a few weeks, but he’d spent the most time of them in bed, his circulation so weak, he collapsed almost the second he tried to get up on his own, which owned him a few bad words from one of the droids which was supposed to assist him. Fighting with a damn piece of metal wasn’t going to do any good, so he left it at that, letting it help him, despite what he was thinking about the lack of proper medical staff. These droids tended to be too unreliable for his liking. Then again, after all, he was just a traitor now. He was still the Empire’s son, the First Order’s General. No one would ever see him as anything else than that, so he couldn’t expect the best equipment. 

Dameron had stopped checking on him after the last time. Not that he minded, on the contrary, his presence had always been rather uncomfortable for Hux, but he couldn’t help but wonder just what had happened. Maybe there was still something going on, despite what was promised to be the end of all wars, or so he’d heard. There was possibly that little bit of hope in him that it was going to be just that. The end of all wars, all terror in the galaxy. It made him desperate nevertheless, never having known what else to do with his life than to fight for the First Order, fight for everything they stood for, but he was going to find a new purpose. Eventually. With Ren gone, Snoke gone, his father so long gone, there was no one who could command him anymore, no one to tell him what to do. He was free. 

There was that realization. He didn’t have to serve anyone ever again. He could vanish, into the Outer Rim, maybe, somewhere where no one knew him. He wouldn’t know what to do, but he could figure out what to do. He could find his purpose in this new life. He almost wanted to cry out of relief, but he didn’t want to feel any more pathetic than he already was. He was still going to keep his pride, despite everything that had happened, and despite everything that he’d done to ruin his reputation. According to the Resistance, there was at least some of it still left. 

His whole life, he’d served the First Order. He was born into this regime - he was never allowed to make any own decisions. His life was pre-determined. He was sure now that this was the reason why he decided to help the enemy, if they could even still be called that, since they were helping him. He wanted to make his own decision. This was his own decision - he was with the Resistance because he chose to. And now he chose to leave them behind as well, because he wanted to. It was small steps, but Hux was sure that he could already be called independent. Or he would be, at least, as soon as they’d taken him off all of the machines and the constant supervision from various droids was gone. 

There was a new face showing up a few days later, although familiar as well. The traitor. Everyone in the First Order knew him, his face, as far as Hux knew, he’d become the face of the Rebellion within the First Order. He didn’t want to think about the fact that they were more alike than he’d like them to be. They both defected. They were both raised to be this way, with Hux just having a far higher rank than all his subordinates. But now the traitor was a General as well. “The reports show that you’re basically almost back to full health, so the other General and I have decided that it’ll be merely a few more weeks until you have to leave. You’ll be in rehab from now on, no more bedrest.” he announced and Hux was glad that he could follow him, at least. He could clearly tell that by his tone that the other man thought so highly of himself now. He, a former stormtrooper, only known by a few letters and numbers, was now a General himself and finally above Hux. They were helping him, he had to remind himself, they were helping him, and he had to be thankful for that. He was, in some way, but he hated their newly found pride in making him feel belittled.

Just as Finn had announced, surely enough the droids were coming in, helping him up from his bed. His legs were still far too wobbly, and he couldn’t stand on his own. Hux could feel his vision going black and he had to sit down once more, feeling far more humiliated by that than he was concerned about his health, simply wanting to walk out, but he wouldn’t even physically be able to. He was handed a cane, that surely wasn’t his own, he could tell. It had the insignia of the Rebellion on it and if he’d thought it couldn’t get any more humiliating, here he was. He tried getting up once more, with the clunky metal arms of a droid around his waist, his hand clutching the cane tightly. 

It was a slow start and he could tell – this was going to take a while. Probably longer than he’d originally estimated. He was feeling like a child who was just taking its first steps. Well, maybe not its very first, it had probably a tiny bit of practice already. He was patient. He’d always been patient, he was used to waiting, putting his own needs behind, but nevertheless, this couldn’t be over fast enough. The thought that they were prolonging this just to make him suffer longer than he was actually meant to crossed his mind and he couldn’t even blame them – it felt terrible nevertheless. At least it would allow him to have time to think his plans through. It was all that was on his mind, all throughout the whole procedure, every single day that he still had to spend here. He’d never really thought about a life after the First Order. He supposed such a thing didn’t exist, yet here he was. 

There was no one checking back on Hux for weeks. He was making small progress, still needing the help of droids to not immediately fall down once he’d gotten up, but he could tell it was getting better. At least that was what he kept telling himself, maybe to keep whatever was still left of his sanity. He couldn’t stand the thought that he wasn’t going to get better at all and would always be dependent on this kind of help. That wasn’t going to happen. Surely enough the Resistance would provide him with everything that was necessary to ensure an independent survival of him. 

The only positive thing was that he could, at least, move at all. Even if there was a droid with him the whole time, and in addition to that he had a ridiculous cane, but he could take care of himself. He’d started to look really terrible, in his opinion, missing the First Order standards, all of his personal products and inventory. He would’ve never thought that this was one of the first things he was going to start missing. But being a General had its advantages, being able to order the most exotic luxury products from all over the galaxy. Now all of this was gone and what he was left with was the cheapest bar of soap. It was better than nothing at all, but it’d take time getting adjusted to that standard, especially since he was now consciously living it every day. Maybe being unconscious and under medical supervision the whole day long did have its positive sides too. 

He used the time that he had to kill anyway to speed up his rehabilitation process, walking around on the base where he was allowed to. They didn’t want him in any of the common rooms, maybe just because they were still afraid of him, or maybe also because they wanted to isolate him, he didn’t know. He was forbidden to go anywhere near these, but he could walk the corridors, since there weren’t too many people walking these, only a few times a day when they were all moving to get their meal. Hux at least had the luxury of eating alone in his room. He wasn’t looking to mingle with the enemies anyway. ‘Allies’ he had to correct himself, although it was still difficult to see them as such. 

He quickly realized that the base was a lot bigger than he’d originally thought. There were quite a lot of people stationed there, which was a bit of a surprise. And he knew that this was just a small part of the Resistance, the rest was spread throughout the whole galaxy. It was no wonder they could defeat them. He was almost impressed. Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to have them as his allies, even if everything in him was telling him not to bond with them, despite the advantages it might bring him. The war was over anyway, his ultimate goal was to live on his own. Without anyone helping him, without him helping anyone.


	3. Chapter 3

Everyone who’d ever met Hux knew that he was rather cold-hearted. He never showed emotions, he thought it was wrong. He was taught that it was wrong. But when he took his own first steps again after what had probably been months now, there was a tear escaping him, out of pure relief. The only one witnessing was the droid who’d just released its hold of him, and he wiped it away quickly enough so maybe even the piece of metal hadn’t noticed anything. He took another step, only with the help of his cane and another. He could walk a good ten feet before he had to sit down again, a bit exhausted, but now he was definitely noticing progress. He was getting better. He could walk. It was ridiculous, the thought alone that he’d ever be happy about something as trivial as this. 

The Generals seemed to have heard about his success too, so there was Dameron showing up again after a few days. “You’re up.” was all that he said, looking Hux up and down in the chair he was sitting, which made him get up, the grip on his cane tight but he could walk the few steps over to the other, making him look quite surprised. “And walking.” he added to his observation, earning him a nod from the former General. “Good. So, we can send you off soon.” he continued, a sly smile on his lips now, eyeing Hux once more before he was gone again. He wanted to argue but didn’t even have the chance to. He might’ve been better, but he was in no condition to already leave. 

It made him a bit desperate, to say the least, knowing he wasn’t going to make it anywhere in the galaxy in this condition. Nevertheless, it also just spurred him on even more, knowing he had to get better or all of his hard fought for survival had been completely useless in the end anyway. That couldn’t happen, he survived for a reason, he couldn’t give up now. He just couldn’t.

He walked more every day, no matter how much it exhausted him. He was able to make it from his end of the corridor to the other and back already before having to sit down again, gasping for air, his chest heaving with exhaustion, but he had to keep fighting. He was going to make it, no matter how much longer it would take him. There was that sharp pain in his chest every time he took it too far and he couldn’t fight that, having to take a break before he could try again. But he did. He tried it again over and over. 

It took him merely two more weeks before he’d walked around the whole base once. He’d made it. He was feeling so out of breath, worried for a second that his entire system might collapse and now he was going to pass away from being overworked. Which was almost a funny thought, considering that this ‘work’ was only walking now, whereas his whole life he’d worked much harder than that. Hux was lying on his bed, panting, but smiling. He couldn’t remember the last time he was this happy about something, especially something like this, that he’d always taken for granted before. Nothing could’ve bothered him in these few minutes of utter content, not even if Dameron had burst in just that second. Although he was still glad that he didn’t. 

His only thoughts were that of his success and he drifted off to these. At least he thought he was just falling asleep, when he’d actually straight up passed out, waking up again with an oxygen mask on his face, a needle in his arm which was pumping some liquid into him. There was a new droid supervising him now, which gave off some sound as soon as he was fully conscious, a medic coming in a few minutes later. An actual medic, Hux was almost surprised. “You were gone for about a day.” she explained dryly, “you need to rest.” She adjusted the dose of the liquid going into his arm, explaining he could take the mask off if he felt like he could breathe on his own, before she’d already vanished again. He took a deep breath, carefully lifting his hand to take off the mask, although regretting that a few minutes later, rather putting it on again. 

It was absolutely terrible, having thought he’d made amazing progress and now falling back again like this. All that he wanted at this point was to leave, but in a condition that would assure that he’d make it out there. Somewhere. He still had no clue where he actually wanted to go. He couldn’t really stand thinking about it right now anyway, not when he didn’t know anymore whether he was ever going to make it out of here alive. 

He was fighting. He was still fighting so hard, every single day. He’d always had to, every day of his life and he was starting to grow tired of it, but he told himself that it wasn’t his time yet to rest. As much as he hated it, he had to keep fighting so he could, eventually, rest. Settle down somewhere, anywhere, really, without anyone knowing him, without half of the people probably still wanting him dead. It was going to be a new start and that was what ultimately kept him going, even through this time. 

It was a few days later when he was finally allowed to get up again, at least not starting at zero, despite what he’d previously thought. He could walk, still quite slowly, but long distances, at least under these circumstances. He met Dameron on one of his ways, not ready for another conversation with him, but that wasn’t going to stop the other man from talking to him anyway. “We’ve decided to release you in roughly two weeks. We think it’s time.” was all that he was told, never getting a chance to talk back, the General already vanishing again. He wanted to say something, anything against this, but couldn’t do so. He cursed the other internally, not being ready for this at all. 

Hux laid awake almost the whole night long, contemplating what he was supposed to do. There was no place he could go to. He didn’t have anyone left in the whole galaxy. No matter how much he’d always hated his family, where he came from, he would’ve been more than happy to at least be able to go back to them. But there was no one there anymore. He didn’t have a family, he didn’t have a home, he could barely even walk. There was one thought that crossed his mind. It was a ridiculous thought and one he could never act on – but it was a place where he could go to. A place that he knew, at least. It’s never truly been his home, but maybe it was the closest he’d ever had to one. Arkanis.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Updates might start getting a bit slower, since I'm pretty busy. But they will come. Eventually.


End file.
